


Out Of Your Mind

by SlimeQueen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Banter, Cuddling, Demonic Possession, Demons, Humor, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Russian Translation Available, basically hyuck lives inside mark's head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 12:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13975572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: Mark just wants to be a regular teenager. Or as regular as an eighteen-year-old sharing his body with a demon can get. And unfortunately for him, Donghyuck loves making things complicated.





	Out Of Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не сходи с ума](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985767) by [hespify](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hespify/pseuds/hespify)



> Yeah okay i just wrote a 7K fic based off that vine of that high dude who's possessed by a demon goes to get a bagel youre welcome  
> Please don't repost my fics anywhere without my permission!

(I)

Jeno says, “Dude, sometimes I like Donghyuck better than you.”

Mark opens his mouth to respond (the words on the tip of his tongue are _you’re a dick_ ) but before he can, a familiar tingling feeling fills his body and instead, he finds himself observing his body saying with a giant obnoxious grin, “Why, thank you.”

“Shut up,” Mark says irritably as soon as he’s able. Jeno looks affronted, and Mark hadn’t even been talking to him. Inside his head, Donghyuck laughs, loud and brash and headache-inducing. “Pass me the joint.”

Mark finds that when his head’s cloudy, Donghyuck feels the effects too, becoming docile and drowsy instead of the insistent throbbing presence at the forefront of Mark’s conscious he usually is.

(“Stop trying to poison me!” Donghyuck shrieks the first time Mark gets really high. Like, _really_ , brain fuzzy, motions loose, giggly high.

“Shhh,” Mark attempts to say, but bursts out giggling instead. Jaehyun gives him a very strange look when he finds Mark talking to himself in the bathroom five minutes later, calling out a half panicked “Hyuck? Donghyuck, where are you?” when the demon remains silent, energy too zapped to try and manifest inside Mark’s head.

Once he’d explained how tired it makes him though, Mark makes it a point to keep a stock in his bottom desk drawer, right under the men’s health magazines he insists are simply for _research_ , god. Sometimes having an honest to god demon living inside your brain is annoying, and Mark needs to unwind, thank you very much.)

Donghyuck makes a scathing noise when Mark takes a deep hit off the joint and hands it back to Jeno, who squints at him through the smoke that billows out of his mouth.

“So, I have a question.” Jeno says, still squinting rather intensely. The window’s open so the smoke disperses quickly, but Mark’s sure he’s going home smelling dank as fuck. Jeno’s dad is cool enough that he doesn’t care, but Mark’s mother has the nose of a bloodhound. Thankfully, she’s understanding of the whole _demonic possession_ thing, so a little weed here and there never gets him into much trouble.

“Shoot,” Mark says, and holds up a finger gun. _Haha_ , Donghyuck deadpans in his head. Already, his voice is growing softer.

Mark can’t really _hear_ Donghyuck. At least, not in the way he can hear Jeno or Jaemin or anyone else. If he tries to imagine Donghyuck’s voice, it sounds basically the same as his. He knows it’s because Donghyuck manifests in his thoughts like he’s part of them. They’re two consciousnesses sharing one body, and Mark sometimes gets confused. Can he not feel his arm because Donghyuck is currently in control of it, or because he’d been laying on it for the past hour by accident? (Okay, probably the latter. But Mark’s not stupid. He’s just an idiot.)

“ _Jeno’s talking to us_ ,” Donghyuck whispers, the last words trailing off in an enormous mental sigh.

Oh. Right. Mark blinks the bleariness out of his eyes in time to catch Jeno’s question.

“Is he there when you like, shower? Or when you pee?” Jeno’s not meeting his eyes, instead staring at his own long fingers around the joint.

Mark furrows his eyebrows. He’s never thought about it like that before.

“I guess?” he says, more questioning than anything else. Donghyuck just hums noncommittedly. “He hummed. What does that mean?”

Mark’s mouth says, “It means I’m tired so you annoying mortals should let me rest before I decide to eat your souls.”

Jeno laughs so loud that Mark winces. They both know Donghyuck spent three days crying in Mark’s head after seeing a lost cat poster, wondering every two minutes, _do you think he’s found yet_? For a demon, he’s very un _demonic_.

Jeno narrows his eyes, long lashes fluttering lethargically. “That didn’t answer my question,” he points out, but then he freezes as a noise reaches their perch on the windowsill of Jeno’s room. “Dad’s home,” Jeno comments, taking the last hit of the joint and crushing it against the window frame. He tosses it into the trashcan (the last time, they’d just dropped them out the window, much to Jeno’s dad displeasure when he found all the butts in the garden).

“I’m gonna head out, I guess.” Mark says, rubbing his temple. He feels both calm and excited at once. His head feels too empty without Donghyuck’s nagging.

Jeno shoots him a shit eating grin. “You’re going to be thinking about it next time you have to pee, aren’t you?” he teases, and even though he’s right, Mark sticks up a middle finger and lets the door slam shut behind him.

He ignores Jeno’s echoing laughter on the way down the stairs, stopping to wave halfheartedly to Jeno’s dad before he slips out the door.

In truth, Mark _is_ thinking about it. Donghyuck’s been in his head so long, he barely remembers a time before the demon. Mark thinks its pretty sick, offering up your five-year-old son to the devil just to save his life.

Mark had only been four when he’d been diagnosed with leukemia, had spent a year wasting away, the prospects of his survival tilting lower and lower until his mother had grown desperate enough to shelve her dignity and try more unorthodox methods.

So yeah, Mark had made a miraculous recovery in under a month, but he’s left with a nagging annoying as hell demon inside his brain 24/7.

Still, Donghyuck’s been there for so long, it’s like he belongs there. Mark had even given him his name. He’d been so young when Donghyuck had first manifested, and Mark hadn’t been able to pronounce the demonic name presented to him. Instead, he’d simply said, “I’ll call you Donghyuck,” much to the demon’s displeasure. The name had grown on him, though (or at least, Mark sorely hopes so, because that’s what he’s been calling him for the past thirteen years).

Mark hops the fence over the garden wall and winds up in his own backyard. His agility is increased to better than the average human’s even when he’s high, and it takes him no effort to hoist himself over the fence.

The backdoor is unlocked like usual, and Mark lets himself in. It smells like spices, and Mark’s got a major case of the munchies. Apparently, he has to eat for two, which makes him sound like he’s pregnant, which he’s very much _not_ , but Donghyuck sucks up so much energy talking to him and taking control of his limbs just to mess with him, he winds up burning more than he can eat sometimes.

“Hey mom,” he greets as he wanders into the kitchen, drawn to the scent of whatever’s simmering in a pot on the stove. He sways a little in front of the pot, inhaling the scent. His stomach growls loudly.

“Hello my babies,” Mark’s mother says, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead. She always greets both of them, ever since Donghyuck took over Mark’s body for a day and spent it whining about how _he_ never gets any attention or affection, why should _Mark_ get a cool mom when he doesn’t even have a mom?

“By the way,” Mark’s mom smiles knowingly, “You smell like you grow marijuana for a living. Go shower.” She pushes Mark’s shoulder lightly in the direction of the stairs. It feels suggestive, but the look she gives him is anything but.

Mark shrugs loosely, his body still pleasantly languid.

It’s not until he’s in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat staring down at his hands (he spends five while minutes staring at them, bending and twisting his fingers, wondering how it’s possible that sometimes he just doesn’t have any control over them, when they belong to him) that he thinks back to Jeno’s question.

Jeno is the only other person to know about Mark’s little problem, and even then, it had taken eight whole years of best friendship before Mark had trusted him enough to tell him the truth.

Mostly, Jeno’s still full of questions, but he’d mostly taken it in stride, striking up a quick friendship with Donghyuck. The only thing more menacing than Donghyuck talking about Jeno in his head all the time is Donghyuck actually using his mouth to voice his thoughts to Jeno.

Back to the problem at hand. Mark is sitting shirtless in the bathroom, wondering if Donghyuck can see his body and feels oddly self-conscious about it.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Donghyuck says, his voice still a bit faint, “ _I already know you’re a skinny little bitch. Get in the shower so we can go eat._ ”

Mark doesn’t move.

“ _Mark_ ,” Donghyuck sighs impatiently, “ _I’m literally thousands of years old. I’m not staring at your naked body, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Can you please just shower. You know getting high makes me hungry_.”

“Getting high makes everyone hungry,” Mark mumbles out loud, but he strips down and steps under the stream of water.

He showers as quickly as possible, trying his very hardest not to think awkward thoughts. God forbid Donghyuck have anything else to tease him over.

Donghyuck’s presence only returns in full swing after Mark finishes eating, his voice becoming so clear that if Mark were to try and imagine, he’d almost be able to distinguish it.

After he calls out to his mom “I’m going to bed,” and Donghyuck uses his mouth to yell his own, “Goodnight mom, love you!” Mark finds himself in his room with a very loud, very insistent demon throbbing in his head.

“Do you ever get tired of living inside me?” Mark wonders as he gets ready for bed. Every since Donghyuck had reminded him about being thousands of years old, Mark hasn’t been able to think of anything else.

Surely, the lifespan of one insignificant human being is too short a time to be anything but a blink for an immortal.

Donghyuck’s quiet for a moment. Then, “ _Don’t call yourself insignificant. You know I wouldn’t get tired of you. You’re the only amusing thing that’s happened to me in centuries_.”

Mark is lying in bed now, the lights off. He’s never found it necessary to play around on his phone before bed, not when he has a whole other being inside him to talk to. He flushes warmly, hoping Donghyuck doesn’t notice it (fruitlessly, because Donghyuck can feel everything he can).

“Do you ever wonder what you’d look like if you manifested in real life?” Mark can’t stop the question from escaping. He’s thought about it before so many times, but never quite found the courage to voice it.

“ _You’d probably die immediately if you saw my true form.”_ Donghyuck jokes, and he adds as an afterthought, _“Probably not. I don’t know, I’ve never tried. Maybe I’d just look like you.”_

“Wait,” Mark says, and the weight of the word hangs in the air. “You could have been _trying,_ and you never did?”

Mark gets the image of his shoulders shrugging, and then, “ _I’m a demon, honey. We’re lazy_.”

“Well can you try now?” Mark asks, excitement already creeping up his spine. He’s never even thought of what Donghyuck would look like. Would he be taller or shorter than Mark?

He feels Donghyuck’s apprehension even without him voicing it. “ _It takes a lot of energy,”_ he says hesitantly. _“I can try, but I probably won’t be able to maintain it for longer than a couple minutes_.”

“We can practice!” Mark exclaims, and his brother bangs on the wall between their rooms hard, shouting from the next room, “Shut up Mark, some of us are trying to study!”

“We can practice!” Mark whisper-yells, and Donghyuck makes a humming noise, contemplating. “If we build up your energy and stamina, it should last longer, right?”

“ _In theory_ ,” Donghyuck says, but his voice is also laced with the excited edge it gets whenever they’re about to do something they shouldn’t. “ _Here it goes, I guess. If we both end up passed out or dead or something, it’s your fault.”_

Mark sits up in his bed, cross legged.

Donghyuck does… _something_ in his head. Something strange.

One second he’s there, and the next, there’s a boy-shaped shadow at the edge of Mark’s bed. Mark practically throws himself at the lamp switch, flicking it on with much more effort than necessarily. He wants to _see_ , god damn it.

Donghyuck does not look like him.

In fact, the shivering, naked boy at the end of his bed looks completely the opposite of him. Donghyuck is slender, and Mark can’t stop drinking in the concave planes of his collarbone, the delicate curves of his shoulder, the tanned, deliciously golden skin of his arms.

Mark quickly throws the blanket over this strange, alien boy, and Donghyuck says in a soft, raspy voice, “Mark,”

Donghyuck does not sound like him either. Mark’s voice isn’t deep by any standards, but Donghyuck’s is striking where his isn’t, bell-like and high.

He looks up with big dark eyes, soft lips falling open into a surprised circle, and shakes orangey copper hair out of his eyes.

Mark’s mind has never been so quiet, so oddly focused on one thing. He reaches a hand out, suddenly desperate with the urge to _touch_ , to feel that this is Donghyuck, his snarky sarcastic obnoxious Donghyuck, and that this is tangible, that it’s _real_.

The second Mark’s fingertip’s brush a velvety soft cheek, Donghyuck disappears without a trace.

In his mind, Donghyuck sighs, “ _Oh_.”

Mark’s fingers are trembling, his arm still outstretched. “Who was that?” He whispers.

Donghyuck hesitates, and then says, “ _He’s how I manifest on this plane when I don’t have a host body. It’s weak, but it’s the closest thing to how I actually look you’re going to get_.”

Mark is still shaking when he turns the lights off, and by Donghyuck’s uncharacteristic silence, he can tell that the demon is just as shaken by this turn of events as he is.

Mark doesn’t get much sleep that night.

(II)

Perhaps in his head, Mark had known it would be a bad idea all along.

He can’t get the image of Donghyuck’s body out of his head. Every time he closes his eyes, the image of Donghyuck’s pallid face, his wide eyes and pretty lips is stamped onto his eyelids.

They don’t get a chance to try it again for a while, not until Mark is at Jeno’s house on a Saturday morning and Donghyuck uses his mouth for the fifth time when Mark is trying to say something to Jeno.

“Can’t you just use your _own_ mouth, seeing as you have one now?” Mark snaps to the empty air.

Jeno furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “His own mouth?” he asks slowly.

Donghyuck snaps back, “ _Fine!_ ” and suddenly the boy is back, still shivering, but this time less sickly looking. He stands up and demands in a voice that is so utterly Donghyuck that it sets Mark at ease, “Give me some clothes, Jeno.”

Jeno is still staring, eyes ricocheting between Mark and Donghyuck, and he finally splutters out, “What the _heck_.”

Mark rolls his eyes, decides that Jeno is completely useless, and goes to grab some sweatpants for Donghyuck to wear. “You’re shorter than me,” he observes as he hands Donghyuck the clothing. “I didn’t think you would be.”

“Fuck you,” Donghyuck says sweetly, and pulls on the pants. Jeno’s shirt is too loose on him, the collar slipping down Donghyuck’s collarbone, and Mark tries not to stare.

“Dude,” Jeno whispers, “You didn’t tell me he was _cute_.”

Donghyuck frowns. “What do you mean? I’ve _been_ cute.” He flops down on the ground and says, “Anyways, like I was saying before Mark so rudely interrupted us…”

Mark zones out as Donghyuck and Jeno continue their conversation about the pros and cons of demonic possession.

It’s only when Donghyuck turns to him with an odd look does he realizes he’s been staring vacantly at the demon’s face for far too long to pass it off as normal.

Mark is so fucked.

(III)

Donghyuck’s stamina with staying tangible improves so slowly, sometimes Mark thinks they’re going backwards. Some days, Donghyuck is able to maintain his form for up to fifteen whole minutes. Other days, he appears, tries to say one sentence, and immediately disappears afterwards.

It takes months, but eventually, he’s able to hold the form for a little over half an hour at a time, though Mark usually needs a nap and a protein bar afterwards to keep himself from passing out.

Mark’s mother nearly has a heart attack the first time a strange boy manifests at her dinner table with a big grin, naked, and saying, “Look, we can talk face to face now, mom!”

Mark’s mother quickly makes it a rule: _No manifesting outside Mark’s room unless absolutely necessary_ , and its amendment clause, _Do not leave Mark’s room without clothing on!_ She adds it to the list she has on a magnetic whiteboard on the fridge, in plain sight not for their public embarrassment, but because then everyone can see them and know what rules to follow.

Donghyuck’s physical form, much to Mark’s horror, just becomes more and more beautiful as it concentrates more power. The glow of his skin comes back around the time he hits the ability to stay in the form for twenty minutes at a time, and every time he smiles, his eyes twinkle in a way that make Mark’s knees go weak.

Mark wishes he was a normal teenager with normal problems. Instead, he’s dealing with a stupid crush on a stupid, very irritating (albeit, cute and funny as heck) demon that lives part-time in his brain.

Donghyuck manifests right when Mark is getting ready to go to bed one night, and without asking, crawls into bed with him.

Mark shrieks in a very (not) dignified way and tries to leap away from the other boy, because somewhere along the way, the lines between _demon_ and _boy_ had gotten blurred. The act of avoidance would be much easier if Mark weren’t on the side of the bed that’s also pressed against the wall. Ergo, he winds up shoved against the wall as Donghyuck spreads out in his bed, taking up the majority of the space.

“Don’t be a jerk,” Donghyuck says, “You should be thankful. Now you can go to sleep without me distracting you.”

Secretly, Mark’s always welcomed the distraction Donghyuck provides. Sometimes the other boy tells him stories of faraway places and times Mark has only read about in books, and it never fails to lull Mark to sleep, the comforting presence of someone else wrapped around his mind.

The tables are turned now. Donghyuck insists, “Let me be the little spoon!” and grabs Mark’s wrists, wrapping them around his middle. “God,” he says, and immediately smirks like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever thought of, “You’re so… _holy_.”

So, where Donghyuck’s presence usually wraps itself like a blanket around Mark’s mind when he can’t sleep, now Mark wraps his physical body around Donghyuck’s, hyperaware of the warmth of another body in his bed, of the way Donghyuck’s heart beats under his palm. Do demons have hearts?

“Yeah, so don’t go breaking it,” Donghyuck murmurs, already half asleep.

Mark only realizes later that he’d voiced the question out loud.

(IV)

“How come you’re so young?” Mark asks one day, sliding onto the floor of his bedroom to sit next to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck shoots him a dirty look. He says, “Would you prefer if I was your mom’s age?”

God. Mark does _not_ want that. He shakes his head quickly, and Donghyuck giggles. “This is the age that matches me the best, I think.”

Mark tentatively curls their hands together. His fingers fit the hills and valleys of Donghyuck’s like they were made for it. Donghyuck is as whiny manifested as he is in Mark’s head, clingy and annoyingly endearing. “For someone who’s always saying he’s thousands of years old, you sure act like a kid.” Mark scoffs.

Donghyuck says silent for a moment, and Mark thinks he’s going to disappear. Instead, he says, “I _am_ a kid. Or at least, the closest thing to a kid you’d find on my plane of existence.”

Mark sees his expression falter just a bit, insecure like it always is when he talks about demonic things. He acts quickly, digging his fingers into Donghyuck’s soft cheek, cooing, “you’re a _baby_ demon? Wow, I should be so lucky.”

“I’m not a _baby_ ,” Donghyuck turns his head and snaps his teeth playfully around Mark’s finger, misses by an inch as Mark pulls away. “I’m just young.”

“Whatever you say,” Mark scoffs.

Donghyuck disappears five minutes later, his hand dissolving in Mark’s grip, and when he tries to hold on tighter, to will it to stay solid, he finds himself holding onto empty air.

(V)

The worst part of being infatuated (just because Mark is too scared to use the L*ve word yet) with the demon in your head is that Donghyuck is _always_ there. Mark gets exactly no time to pine over his tragic, star crossed love, because Donghyuck will pick up on what’s going on so easily.

Instead, he decides to get high and spend some time wallowing in his own misery, clouding his head in order to evade Donghyuck’s inescapable presence.

Mark smokes by himself, feeling like the World’s Biggest Loser, curled up in front of his window, the glass cracked open for him to blow smoke out of.

At some point, his brother knocks on the door, asks in a tentative voice, “hey, can I get some of that?”

And Mark has to shout back, “leave me alone to _die_!”

Jaehyun leaves with a mutter of “teenagers,”

God, can’t a guy just angst around here?

Donghyuck fades to the back of his mind, and Mark gets the mental image of him curled up and sleepy, ensconced somewhere in the deepest part of his mind. Now that there’s a face besides his own, a voice that isn’t his, Mark finds himself looking at Donghyuck differently.

No longer are they the same. Donghyuck has his own existence, his own being. Mark feels out of his element.

So he smokes a whole bowl by himself, and when he’s so high that he can’t stand straight, he slips into the kitchen to find something to fill his stomach.

Jaehyun wanders in while Mark is on a valiant quest to find some bagels, shakes his head in amusement, and observes, “dude, you’re so fuckin smacked.”

“And you missed three classes last week,” Mark grins back, and Jaehyun shoots him a dirty look.

“What are you even looking for?” Jaehyun asks, shuffling past him to get to the fridge. He grabs the milk carton, and because he is a disgusting monster, drinks straight milk right from the carton. Right in front of _Mark’s_ lactose intolerant nose? He thinks not.

“Uhhhhh,” he says trying to remember. What _had_ he been looking for again?

“ _The souls of the innocent_ ,” Donghyuck’s faint voice supplies helpfully.

“A….bagel.”

“ _Nooo_!” Donghyuck howls.

Mark tries, “Two bagels?”

“We’re out,” Jaehyun says cheerfully, “I ate the last one this morning. Sorry, Hyuck.” Jaehyun is a fucking menace.

“It’s still Mark.” He grumbles, but shuts the fridge.

“Same difference,” Jaehyun grins, “you’re both demons to me.”

Jaehyun leaves the kitchen then, and Mark tries to recollect his dispersed thoughts. What’s he looking for again?

Donghyuck supplies helpfully, “ _the damned_.”

(VI)

Renjun rolls back on the heels of his feet, hands awkwardly twisting in the straps of his bag. He looks up, eyes hesitant. “Well?” He says apprehensively.

Being confessed to by the school’s cutest foreign exchange student isn’t exactly what Mark had planned for today.

He isn’t good at this type of thing. In fact, he’s very bad at it, evident from the way he’s in l*ve with an actual demon. But Renjun is looking at him and expecting an answer.

Before Mark can decide what to say, though, he loses all feeling in his face. Donghyuck says, “I’m flattered, but the thing is, I’m kind of seeing someone already. I’m sorry, Junnie.”

Renjun’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh,” he mutters, “oh, I see.” Mark can tell he’s trying hard not to look dejected.

As soon as Renjun’s gone, Mark demands, “why did you do that?”

“Because you’re an idiot!” Mark’s mouth says back to him. “You obviously don’t like him, but you were probably going to say yes or something just to be nice. I did you a favor.”

Mark wishes so hard that Donghyuck were just another person, that he could tell Donghyuck to meet him behind the school during lunch to confess, to give him a cute handwritten note like the one from Renjun currently clenched in his hand.

The situation is so _unfair_.

Mark is experiencing his first love and half the time, it’s all just in his head. This is every twisted rom com from the 90’s mixed with every cult horror movie, but worse.

(VII)

Donghyuck is like a rubber band. He can stretch as far as he’s able, but at the end of the day, he snaps back to the tether, back to Mark.

Mark’s hands press into the grooves of Donghyuck’s ribs, slim fingers slotting into the spaces between them, and Donghyuck whines softly, still half asleep, “Don’t do that, your hands are cold.”

Mark whispers into the back of Donghyuck’s neck, “Sorry,” and then, “Do you even need to sleep?”

With a heavy, burdened sigh, Donghyuck turns around, and Mark’s heart skips a beat. They’re pressed face to face, noses nearly touching. Donghyuck opens his eyes, but they’re sleepy, still half lidded. “I don’t _have_ to do anything. I just like it.”

Donghyuck takes Mark’s hands between his own warm palms, rubs some warmth into them, and absently, still half unconscious, presses a kiss to the tip of his fingers. In the next second, he’s asleep again, breath smoothing out along Mark’s knuckles, his hands still loosely held between his own.

Mark’s fingers tingle everywhere they’re pressed together. He swallows hard, can’t bear to extract his hands.

He wishes they could stay like this forever.

(VIII)

Mark wakes up in the nurses office to screaming inside his head.

He winces, his temple already throbbing. “ _What, Hyuck,”_ he asks, struggling to sit up.

The second he realizes Mark’s awake, Jeno leaps up from his seat and exclaims, “Mark! Oh my god, they were about to call the hospital.”

Mark isn’t paying attention to him though. He’s too busy calling out in his mind, “ _Donghyuck_ , _stop yelling. What happened? Why am I in here?”_

Thankfully, Donghyuck stops his racket and cries, “ _Mark_!”

“Dude,” Jeno says, his eyes wide, “you just, like, passed out in the middle of class. Are you okay? Was it…” he glances around furtively, leans in, then whispers, “is it our _friend_?”

Mark presses a hand to his aching head, rubbing his fingers against it. “I don’t know,” he murmurs finally, “he won’t stop crying.”

Jeno chokes over a laugh. “You better not scare me like that again, dude.” He pulls Mark into a bone crushing hug, holds him like that until Mark gasps for breath and has to bang a hand against his shoulder to indicate that he’s going to pass out again if he doesn’t let go soon.

Jeno leaves to inform the nurse that Mark is awake then, and Mark tentatively calls out, “ _Hyuck?_ ”

Donghyuck isn’t sobbing in any way that Mark can hear, but he knows it’s happening nonetheless. “Dude,” Mark whispers out loud, as quiet as he can, “I’m fine. Calm down.”

Donghyuck hiccups, “ _I-I couldn’t feel you, I thought you were fading away, I thought you wouldn’t wake up._ ”

“I’m okay,” Mark reassures again, and then in his head, “ _You really cried over me passing out?_ ”

Jeno comes back in with the nurse and Mark and Donghyuck immediately go silent.

“Your mom’s coming to pick you up,” the nurse informs him with a slightly concerned smile, “If you still don’t feel well tomorrow, stay at home and rest.”

Mark nods dutifully and gets a hot pack and a box of juice for his trouble.

Jeno takes him to wait for his mother in the office, and as soon as they’re seated, he turns to Mark with question marks in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Mark chooses to say, “it’s not like he was manifesting or anything. I guess it was just that I’m tired? Exam week is killing me, dude.”

Mark can _feel_ how bad Donghyuck wants to pull apart, to take his physical form so he can be more hands on in checking what’s wrong with Mark, but they’re still in school, so he settles for using Mark’s mouth to say, “I’m eating too much of your energy. I knew this would be a bad idea. Maybe I should st-“

“It’s not your fault!” Mark breaks through with sheer willpower. It’s hard to overpower Donghyuck once he has control over a body part, but it’s not impossible.

Jeno presses his lips together in a thin line (and they’re some _thin_ lips to begin with, so that’s saying a lot) and he says tentatively, “Maybe you guys should talk this over when you get home. Face to face, instead of whatever the fuck you’re doing now.”

Mark hums in agreement, hands clasped together in his lap. He feels fine now. If Donghyuck wants to be dramatic, then let him be. Mark knows what his body can and can’t handle.

Eventually, Jaehyun arrives, looking meticulously disheveled, like he just got out of bed (Mark hates that he can pull off that look when Mark looks like a half drowned baby chicken when he tries) and greets him with an unimpressed look. “You’re an idiot.” He says. “Didn’t Mom tell you not to push it when you mess with that demonic shit?”

Contrary to his words, Jaehyun cares more about Mark’s wellbeing than he lets on. He pulls Mark into a loose hug, mutters, “don’t scare me like that. Mom called me in a fucking panic. I thought you were dying.”

Mark blinks in surprise. He eventually relaxes in Jaehyun’s arms, albeit a bit hesitantly. “I’m fine,” he insists. “You guys are all making a big deal over nothing.”

Jaehyun’s jaw is tense when he pulls away. “Let’s talk in the car.”

Mark waves goodbye to Jeno and allows Jaehyun to pull him to the parking lot.

It’s only when they’re inside the car that Donghyuck manifests physically, shivering in the backseat until Jaehyun tosses him his jacket, which he uses to cover up as much as he can. Thankfully, Jaehyun likes oversized jackets and Donghyuck is conveniently small.

“So I’ve been researching,” Jaehyun begins conversationally. His hands are gripping the wheel much tighter than necessary, Mark realizes. His knuckles are turning white from the pressure. “The demonic plane, mostly, but also specific cases of contracts.”

Donghyuck shifts uncomfortably under the jacket. He looks sickly again, sweat beading along his forehead, eyes slightly unfocused and feverish. “The contract states that I have to stay inside Mark for as long as he lives and as long as I am immortal.” He says.

“The problem with that,” Jaehyun responds immediately, “is that this,” he waves a hand between the two of them, and Mark and Donghyuck look at each other in surprise, “this _thing_. This connection isn’t stable.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks, scratching his blunt nails against the seatbelt strap. Donghyuck is a demon, Donghyuck is trapped inside his head, and Mark is stuck with him forever. These are givens. These are part of the contract.

“Mom signed away your soul.” Jaehyun muses. “We all thought she’d gone off the deep end, but it turns out she knew what she was doing. But the thing is, she didn’t know enough about it.”

Of course not. Mark’s mother had only looked into demonology for a month or two before trying the most outlandish methods. Jaehyun is more calculating and has been researching the topic as a hobby since middle school.

“So what are you saying?” Donghyuck interrupts for the first time. “We’re definitely bound. I wouldn’t be able to leave even if I wanted to.”

“But people who are possessed. How long do they typically live before their contract ends?”

Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows. He counts silently, mouthing the numbers. Mark twists his head and watches. _Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen_.

“Fifteen years?” Donghyuck estimates. Then, eyes widening in realization, he whispers “Mark’s eighteen.”

“What happens if it’s more than fifteen years?” Mark asks, a sudden fear rising in his chest. Is he going to die after all? Is Donghyuck going to be forcibly ripped from his body and taken back to the other plane?

“I…. don’t know.” Donghyuck finally admits. “I don’t think it’s ever happened before. None of us have ever been bound to children. This is unorthodox.”

Mark looks at Jaehyun, eyes pleading. “I’m going to be fine, though, right?” and Jaehyun’s eyes soften.

“You’ll be fine.” He assures, and reaches out, squeezes the dip of Mark’s shoulder and his neck. “There’s no way I’m letting anything happen to you.”

When Mark risks a glance back at Donghyuck and sees the expression on the other boy’s face, he doesn’t feel very convinced.

(IX)

Mark wants Donghyuck so bad it _aches_.

Donghyuck manifests less and less since the passing out incident (his idea, not Mark’s) and Mark misses seeing his face every day.

He undoubtedly blames himself for it. Every time he does take physical form, he just stares at Mark with guilt shining in his eyes, practically exuding melancholy until Mark gets annoyed and snaps at him to chill the fuck out.

There’s also the side of him that’s scared of this whole mess, of the exertion getting the better of him, until he’s so drained that it’s too late to fix it.

Mark finds himself thinking about this side more and more often. Jaehyun throws himself into his research, visiting occult bookstores and burying himself in ancient texts Mark wouldn’t be able to understand if he tried.

The connection doesn’t _feel_ unstable. However, sometimes Donghyuck takes too long to answer something in his head, or his voice tickles the back of Mark’s mind, “ _I’m too tired right now. Summon me later.”_ And Mark finds himself panicking all over again.

He’s curled up in bed, permeating in his own fear, when Donghyuck finally snaps, “ _That’s enough. Quit being such a fucking weirdo and get out of bed_.”

Very quietly, Mark whispers, “I don’t want to die. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Donghyuck stays silent, and Mark thinks that he’s receded back into his consciousness, but then there’s a gentle hand on the curve of his shoulder. The bed dips with Donghyuck’s weight, and then there’s a solid body pressing to his back.

“Mark,” Donghyuck whispers, urgency coloring his voice. “Look at me.”

Mark turns to face him. He’s pale, the glowy warmth of his skin dimmed by a sickly pallor, and Mark’s eyes travel downwards before he can stop himself, down the long span of his throat, stopping at the neckline of the shirt he’d thrown on. It’s Mark’s, bought for his broad shoulders, and it slips off Donghyuck’s shoulder, exposing way too much collarbone.

Donghyuck exhales, and his breath is warm against Mark’s mouth.

Mark swallows hard. 

Donghyuck says, “You silly human. You think I’d let you just die? You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Donghyuck kisses him, so lightly that Mark barely feels it. Then, another kiss, this one purposeful, a warm tongue running up the seam of his mouth. Mark’s lips part of their own accord, and Donghyuck maneuvers, straddling him.

Donghyuck kisses the fear out of him, fills him with warmth and light and hope, and Mark knows immediately that he will never be able to think L*ve again because this is Love. Capital L, for the rest of his life, real true love.

When Mark’s kissed breathless, Donghyuck collapses next to him on the bed, his own chest rising and falling unevenly.

Mark says dumbly, “Okay, now I’m ready to die.”

(X)

Now that making out with Donghyuck is an option, Mark can’t get enough.

He presses Donghyuck against whatever available surface he can find as soon as he takes a physical form, kisses him until his lungs burn from a lack of air and their mouths are swollen, hair messy from the fingers that tangle through it.

Mark kisses Donghyuck like his days are numbered, because as far as he knows, they are.

They kiss so much, in fact, that his mother adds another rule to the very long list. _No manifestations after midnight_. Mark takes one look at it, and blushes bright red.

Donghyuck says, “You know, being in your head could be even worse. Who knows what kind of sinful thoughts I might plant in there?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table, a half-torn apart book in one hand, a spoon in the other, and he says, “Shut up, you’re like twelve.”

“I’m three thousand two hundred and-“ Donghyuck begins, outraged, but Jaehyun hums, hiding a smirk behind his book. Donghyuck realizes he’s being teased and snaps his mouth shut, but shoots a dark glare his way.

“Donghyuck, no glares in the kitchen,” Mark’s mom says as she breezes by, her work clothes already on. She ruffles his hair as she passes, and Donghyuck’s face immediately softens. “This is a positive, beautiful environment.” She reminds all three of them, and then she’s out the door, leaving the kitchen smelling like her perfume.

“You heard mom,” Donghyuck snickers, throwing open the fridge to find breakfast, “No ugly things. Looks like Jaehyun’s getting kicked out.”

Jaehyun pinches Donghyuck’s ear hard on his way to the stairs, causing the demon to shriek, “I’ll set your bed on fire!” and Jaehyun laughs back, “I’d like to see you try.”

Once Jaehyun’s holed back up in his room because he is an Actual Hermit, it’s just Mark, Donghyuck, and the List.

“I say we make out against the fridge until the marker smears and the list is gone.” Donghyuck says with a mischievous grin.

Mark grins back, reaching out to grab the smaller boy, pushing him back against the fridge, and proceeds to do exactly that.

(XI)

Jaehyun’s windblown, glasses askew, hair tangled and greasy, but the smile on his face is huge. He’s so out of breath, it takes him three times before Mark finally understands what he’s trying to say.

“ _I found a solution.”_

It turns out that “a solution” is Jaehyun-speak for “I was visiting a strange obscure bookstore and found a book of spells for entrapping demons that may or may not be written by a crazy person in the 17th century, but hey, this time it may actually work and not make you sick for three weeks like that other one!”

But it’s their best bet, so Mark and Donghyuck agree to it.

Jaehyun doesn’t sleep for three days putting together all the necessary ingredients. (Mark takes one vial, squints at the name, and gives up. What the fuck is _nightlock picked on the first lunar eclipse of the year_? Mark isn’t a _witch_ , or whatever the fuck Jaehyun thinks he is.)

“It’s not magic,” Jaehyun insists when Mark calls it that. “It’s science.”

When his back is turned, Donghyuck looks at Mark from his perch on the kitchen counter, legs swinging under him, and he mouths exaggeratedly, “ _Magic_.”

Mark is still giggling when Jaehyun turns around and his brother gives him an odd look.

When the potion (“for lack of better word!” Jaehyun scowls when Donghyuck smirks at his phrasing) is ready, Jaehyun pours it into Donghyuck’s favorite “World’s Best Dad” coffee mug and fixes him with a solemn gaze.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Jaehyun prompts.

Donghyuck’s lips part like he’s going to answer, but he stays silent.

“You won’t be immortal anymore. You can’t do the shit you were able to before. No more magic, no more manifesting or disappearing. You’re responsible for all your own actions from now on. You’re never going to be in Mark’s head again.”

Donghyuck bites his lip hard. Mark’s stomach churns anxiously. He doesn’t like that look.

Just when Mark is about to lose hope completely, Donghyuck looks past Jaehyun, directly at him. Their eyes meet, and Donghyuck’s lips curl into a tiny smile.

“I’m sure.” He says, eyes twinkling.

He takes the mug, drinks down all of the potion in one gulp.

And then, before Jaehyun or Mark can react fast enough to catch him, he passes out on their carpet, the mug falling from his grasp and shattering against the floor.

Jaehyun makes Mark clean it up, because despite being an amazing scientist and scholar, he is, at heart, an asshole older brother.

They put Donghyuck in Mark’s bed. Jaehyun tells him that he’ll wake up in anywhere from one night to three, and leaves Mark to his own devices. Which basically means, Mark freaks the fuck out, his head too silent without a snarky voice telling him to calm down.

Donghyuck sleeps for so long that it takes all of Mark’s willpower to keep from shaking him awake.

He paces up and down the hallway in front of his room until Jaehyun yells at him, tells him to smoke a blunt and take a walk, for god’s sake, so Mark sits at Donghyuck’s feet and frets to himself, wondering how the fuck something so esoteric could possibly work.

Or perhaps it’s because of the obscurity that it will work.

Either way, Mark is an anxious mess, biting his nails down until they bleed, chewing the inside of his cheek raw.

Finally, in the morning, when Mark’s so fucking tired he could keel over and die, Donghyuck stirs, a twitch of his hands, then a shift in his shoulders. Mark’s instantly on alert, muscles tensing.

Donghyuck blinks, clearly unused to the light. He clears his throat, asks tentatively, “Mark?”

Mark is next to him in an instant, intertwining their fingers. In a low voice, he says, “How do you feel?”

Donghyuck smiles, and it’s so bright, Mark feels warm down to his toes. He replies, “Human.”

Then he pulls Mark to him, kisses him until Mark’s heart is racing, his cheeks flushed, and he feels it too. Human.

It’s Love. Capital L and all.

**Author's Note:**

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